


the same old blood rush, with a new touch

by insomniacjams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, OT3, it's got some weird bits, it's just an excuse to write sex really, so this is actually just sex, there's a dildo and Niall thinks its name is Pamela, this is my attempt at curing writer's block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniacjams/pseuds/insomniacjams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times Niall watched while Zayn and Liam engaged in sexual activities, and one time he did more than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> I had crazy writer's block so I wrote this instead of working on my ongoing projects, oops.  
> Warning; Rush job and not beta read or self-edited.

The first time Niall gets an eyeful of Liam's dick is a complete and total accident. He's seen the rest of the boys naked more times than he can count on one hand, a side effect of close quartered living and Harry's propensity to walk around in his birthday suit. But Liam, Liam is a special creature, quiet and timid – keeps to himself most days, even more so than Zayn, shy and self-conscious about his body.

And Niall respects that, he does, so he backs off and leaves Liam to do his thing, whatever it is that the guy does. However, that doesn't mean Niall doesn't enjoy crowding into Liam's space whenever he can, burrowing into the hard chest, scratching his cheek against the rough stubble on Liam's chin, or wrapping his wiry arms around Liam's broad back and just clinging.

This invasion of space, this is why Niall spends ten minutes knocking on the hotel room door at ass o'clock in the morning because he knows, he just knows, that if anyone in the band is awake, it's Liam and his obnoxious morning workout routine. 

When he doesn't receive an answer, he just shrugs, thinking if Liam did sleep in, he'd be the least angered about waking up to a singing, possibly dancing, Irishman – he uses the key card he'd been given the day before to open the door.

"Leemo," Niall calls softly into the dark room, and he hears a bit of shuffling. The lump of blankets on the bed starts thrashing, and a muffled yelp fills the room.

"Niall, hi," Liam huffs, and then Zayn's there, pushing the blanket from his face, cum staining his lips thick and white and just there, hanging out on the curve of his swollen and red bottom lip. 

"What the fuck was that, Liam?" Zayn asks, and his tongue flickers out to taste, to catch a bit of Liam that's just chilling on his lips like Niall hadn't just walked in on them, well, being them. There's another flurry of movement hidden by the blankets, and Zayn's eyes widen ten-fold. 

"Right, I'm out then," Niall says, but Liam shakes his head, smirking as Zayn lets out a high squeak equivalent that to a hamster being vacuumed. His hand is moving under the blanket, and Niall can see the rise and fall of Liam's chest, and the way Zayn's Adams apple bobs up and down with every shift beneath the blanket.

Then in one swift motion, Zayn's head disappears under the blanket. Clearly, Liam's forgotten Niall's still hovering in the doorway, because his first instinct is to throw it off – and that's how Niall sees Liam's dick for the first time, still a tad hard and spent, lying plump and used against the soft hair of his belly, like a poor and neglected little sea cucumber. 

And then, just because Niall clearly hasn't been forgotten, Zayn says his name with a low moan, a deep and throaty from his earlier activities, "Niall," interrupting Niall's own stunted breathing. Zayn comes, wet and gasping, all over Liam's hand, stomach, thighs, and sea cucumber. 

Niall turns around and runs from the room.


	2. two

The second time he sees Liam's dick isn't an accident. 

They're skinny dipping on some private beach that Louis had rented them for their week off. Niall thinks it's dumb that they've got one week off before the next tour and they're spending it together, but then again, he can't imagine spending it apart.

As expected, they lose Louis and Harry to a sea of helicopter sound effects and blubbery kissing that Niall will never understand. "Fuck, should've just stayed back with Zayn," Liam says, and Niall frowns at the lake water.

"You could go back."

"We could go back," Liam offers, and Niall still feels like swimming, but he just overheard Harry call Louis "honeybun" and he thinks his eyeballs might combust if he stays within ten meters of that. Niall follows Liam back to the shore, only to find the rock where they'd left their clothes bare of their belongings.

Niall lets out a long-suffering sigh at Harry and Louis cackling in the lake, and starts trudging up the path toward the beach house they'd rented. "Niall, wait," Liam calls, and Niall stops mid-step, turning to face Liam. "I don't think we should go back there-"

"No, we really should. Can you imagine the headlines now? Exclusive! Naked British pop-stars found on California shore!" Liam makes a horrified face at the thought of his ass cheeks plastered across a tabloid, and Niall nods. "That's what I thought.

The second time Niall sees Zayn naked while Liam is also naked is definitely an accident.

Liam tries to wiggle his way through the doorway of the house before Niall, but Niall can be a stubborn little shit when he wants to (so, like, all the time) and uses his body to block Liam's, smirking victoriously as he yanks the door open and tumbles into the living area.

Zayn's on the couch, ass in the air, fucking a fuchsia, rhinestone encrusted dildo. Niall thinks the dildo looks like a Hannah, or a Pamela. Niall hopes it's a Pamela – he had a Hannah once, and it wasn't as nice as – "Holy shit, Zayn," his voice cracks when his mouth finally catches up to his brain. And then a beat later, "Is her name Pamela?"

"Fuck, Zayn, I-" Liam starts, but he doesn't have words – and Niall's seen Liam speechless at least a dozen times before, tears caught in his throat in particularly emotional moments, his voice warbling with each step he takes, but he's never seen Liam like this.

He's positively hungry, seen in the way his eyes are alight with the passion of a thousand suns or some other equally corny line from every bad romance novel about a woman and a centaur. Liam's hands are already reaching forward, wrapping around Zayn's and peeling the fingers off Pamela, replacing them with his own, driving the toy in and out of Zayn's pink and exposed hole.

Niall stands in the doorway like a frightened animal; he's scared to move, like if he does, the world will stop spinning and the sun will fall out of the sky. Liam reaches down, his free hand sliding over the sheen of sweat on Zayn's hip – Niall gasps as Liam wraps his hand around Zayn's dick and makes quick work of it, giving three short pumps and a careful swipe over the head before Zayn comes all over the sofa.

"We have to sit there," Niall chokes out, horrified.

"Leeyum," Zayn ignores Niall completely. "Fuck me, c'mon, Li-"

"Yeah, babe, fuck, just let me-" 

Niall watches as Zayn pushes a bottle of lube into Liam's hand, and watches as Liam coats his dick with it, and watches as Liam slowly and gently pulls out Pamela, tosses it aside, and replaces the gaping space left behind with his own cock.

"Holy fuck," Niall chokes on his tongue, looking down to find that he is still naked and hard, cock bobbing uncomfortably stiff between his legs. 

"Come on," Zayn whines, and Niall slowly backs away, unsure how Zayn plans on getting Liam any physically closer to him, since Liam's draped over him like an extra skin. A very large, very sweaty, very aroused extra skin.

Zayn turns around. "Who's Pamela?"

Niall runs again.


	3. three

Liam's eating a hot dog. This normally isn't a strange thing, except this hot dog is actually a piece of bread wrapped around Zayn's cock, and maybe Niall's imagining the bread. Niall's starting to wonder when this became his life. He wrenches his hands tighter around the hem of his shirt and tries not to watch when Zayn giggles like a schoolgirl and tangles his fingers into Liam's hair (when did it get so long?) and tugs.

To be fair, it'd been Niall who went barging into closets all over without looking, anxiously hiding from Harry and Louis who were armed with many cans of whipped cream and a few bananas – he still doesn't know where these things came from, or if he even wants to know.

Zayn's boxers are tangled around his knees. Zayn's boxers have giraffes on them, Niall notes a bit hysterically as Liam wraps his lips around Zayn enthusiastically like he's slurping away at a slushie on a hot day. And it is hot, but he's sure Zayn is pretty hot too – okay, who was he kidding, Zayn was smoking – so he had no idea why Liam wanted to drink Zayn down like an ice cold beer on the beach in the dead of summer. 

Okay, maybe he has a bit of an idea, Niall thinks watching as Zayn starts moaning as Liam hums around the cock in his mouth. He tries to slink out of the closet, but the handle jams on something – he can hear snickering outside the door, and he slams his head against it as Louis not-so-subtly laughs.

Zayn looks positively debauched in the flickering light from the single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Liam probably has spiders in his hair. The light flickers again, and Niall can't look away. "Fuck, Liam, I'm close-" Zayn's gasping, his legs shaking, and Niall's not ready for it when they give out and he just slumps over, collapsing on top of Niall, a deadweight he didn't need.

"You're wearing giraffes," Niall says, because he's not sure what else to say over the obscene slurping noises coming from Liam, lapping up every last drop between Zayn's legs, still on his knees, hands gripping Zayn's hips though he does nothing to help hold his partner upright. 

Niall's hands grow weak; he drops Zayn, totally by accident, of course. Zayn drags both Niall and Liam down with him, and then they're sprawled on the floor of a dirty closet in an indiscernible tangle of limbs. "Fuck," Liam gasps, and when Niall looks down, Liam's rutting up against Zayn's leg like he's completely oblivious to the half-naked man with the most extraordinary cheekbones and eyelash combination in the universe trying to eye-fuck him into oblivion.

"You guys- what!" Niall squawks as Zayn's hand accidentally lands on his thigh, a bit too close to his nether regions for comfort. As Zayn's hand continues to fumble around Niall's thigh like he's searching for a map out of the goddamn closet, Liam visibly pales as his eyes squeeze shut and he comes in his pants.

Niall resigns himself to the fact that he's going to be stuck in the closet with these fools until the end of eternity. He makes a disgusted face in Liam's general direction, carefully avoiding the sight of Zayn's dick, still exposed, giraffe boxers still around his knees. "That's gross, dude."

And if Niall has to discretely adjust himself in his pants when Harry finally grows a conscience and lets them out of the closet, nobody notices.


	4. four

Liam invites Niall to hang out in their hotel room when Harry and Louis get particularly creative with a Nerf gun, hollandaise sauce, and a handful of cashews one night in the middle of tour. Thankful for the escape, Niall is quick to scamper into the opposite hotel room.

He plops his ass down on Liam's bed, next to the two bodies already occupying it.

At first glance, he thinks they're just cuddling, Zayn straddling Liam as he flips a page of his book. At second glance, Zayn's not sitting still. At third glance, Zayn's very obviously naked and sitting on Liam's dick.

"Hey Niall, did you want to watch that movie you were talking about the other day? The one with the gangsters?" Niall isn't sure if he can make his mouth work and form words, nonetheless watch a movie while Zayn casually wiggles around on Liam's cock like it's a fucking carnival ride. He makes a choking noise, which Liam must interpret as agreement, because soon Zayn's passing Liam the remote with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I hear it's good, man. I'm stoked to see it," Zayn says emphatically, using his knees for leverage as he pulls himself up and sinks back down on Liam's cock, like he's forgotten Liam's even there at all, just using him – riding him like a toy as his swollen dick bobs against his stomach and leaks so much precome it spills from under the foreskin and trickles down the shaft.

Niall can't remember which city they're in; he's been in America so long the days have all blended together, and he's wondering if Zayn and Liam felt the same slow burn in their days, but then, he thinks as he watches Zayn drop himself down on Liam again as Liam sets up the movie like he isn't bothered, they probably make their own fun on those slow days in the middle that drag on forever.

"I'm thinking of painting my fingernails," Zayn says, and huh, Niall wasn't expecting that. Zayn isn't the most femme of them all – he doesn't care for makeup, even if he did admit he looked fine as hell dressed as Veronica that one day – doesn't do his nails like Louis or Harry like to. "I think I'd look good in nail polish," he continues, smiling.

"You would," Liam picks up immediately, wrapping his big hands around Zayn's narrow waist and lifting him up with deliberate movements. Niall tries to watch the TV, but he's watching Liam's hands digging into Zayn's skin like he's trying to leave a bruise. 

"My fingers, electric blue, maybe with some glitter," Zayn purrs, leaning down to lick at the shell of Liam's ear, "wrapped around your cock like an electric shock." Niall hysterically starts wondering if electric eels have oral sex.

"Bet you'd make me come with just your fingers," Liam says, ignoring the movie, ignoring Niall. "I bet you'd use those perfect little fingers inside me- make me come with three fingers in my ass and your tongue in my mouth."

"You're not wearing a condom," Niall observes aloud. His hands are definitely not shaking. He's also not sure who comes first. Liam lets out a shout, a vaguely inhuman noise coupled with a sharp inhale, and Niall most definitely does not watch Zayn shoot his load all over his stomach, eyes squeezed shut, toes curled, hands clenching around Liam's shoulders.

Liam's fingers are clearly digging into Zayn's skin, leaving behind crescent shaped nail marks.

Niall's eyes widen as Liam gingerly pulls out, rolling Zayn over onto his back and placing a quick kiss on his temple before reaching for his suitcase and pulling out a sleek turquoise butt plug and stuffing his cum back inside Zayn's ass.

"I'm out," Niall says, and he doesn't wait to see if they heard him.

He goes outside, by himself, and hopes no one gets a picture of him like this, red faced, tenting his joggers like a horny teenager. He lights up a smoke he stole from Zayn a long time ago, but he doesn't bring it to his lips. He forgets it between his fingers, thinking about electric blue nail polish and his sanity, slowly burning away like the cigarette.

He stomps out the butt and when he gets back inside, he jerks off hard and fast in his shower. It doesn't occur to him until after he's shamefully burrito-wrapped in his blankets that he could've left instead of hanging around and watching Zayn split himself open on Liam.

But he didn't. 

Maybe he needed a lesson in self-control, he thinks, and he plans to never let Harry and Louis near hollandaise again.


	5. five

"Oh no, not again," Niall says. He's done with life – done with this. They're on the bus, of all places, and Niall's already regretting declining Josh's offer to ride with the band. Harry and Louis are going off at each other, yelling nonsense that Niall's not even sure makes sense to them.

He catches half-formed sentences.

"We haven't touched ostriches! Like, steak, dude-"

"Why did you clean your toothbrush after? That went in my mouth-"

"A lot of things go in your mouth-"

"My mouth-mrrrrmph!" Harry's shout is muffled, and Niall quickly ducks into the bunks to hide from the squabble and the loud smack of frustrated kisses from the front of the bus. 

"They're going to fuck on the couch," Liam says idly; he's stroking his thigh, Niall notes. He backs away, eyes trained to the short hair catching under Liam's blunt nails, but he bumps into Zayn who wraps an arm around his hip to steady him, and leaves it there. Niall wonders if he could chop it off – he wonders if he could take it and attach it to himself and take Zayn's arm as a third. He's going mental.

"Probably, but we've fucked on the couch so it's only fair," Zayn says loftily, securing his grip at Niall's hip. "Come hang out with us." It's not a question, so Niall nods his head obediently. His eyes are still focused on Liam's hand, creeping farther up his thigh until he's palming himself through his briefs absentmindedly while smiling brightly. 

"Liam," Niall finds his tongue. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Liam says with false innocence, puppy dog eyes on full-effect. They're big and brown and warm and Niall just wants to hug him forever even if his hand is back to idly stroking his cock through his briefs. "I might want cuddles."

"Here," Niall says, shoving Zayn toward the bunk, who stumbles and grabs the curtain on Niall's ripping it clean off the beds. Niall sighs as Zayn lands on the ground in a tangled heap. Niall helps him up and kindly deposits him into Liam's bunk before crawling into his own, now curtain-less, bunk opposite from Liam's.

Zayn is in Liam's arms for 0.5 seconds at most before they're going at it, lapping into each other's mouths and rocking their hips lazily against each other. Liam's hands find their way to Zayn's ass and he dips his fingers into Zayn's jeans, shedding them quickly.

Niall doesn't realize what he's doing until he's doing it, unzipping his jeans to relieve a bit of the pressure; he's baking in the heavy scent of sexual tension, his ears full of Zayn's breathy pants as Liam works him open slowly with experienced hands. He's got Zayn buried in his shoulder, but his eyes are trailed on Niall like he can see nothing else. He doesn't close the curtain.

Niall practically melts into the bed the minute he finally gets his fingers on his dick. He's hard, harder than he ever remembers being – Liam is sucking a mark into Zayn's neck, working the skin with his teeth, and tonguing over it to sooth the mark seconds later.

Zayn is shaking, trembling as Liam works his fingers in and out – they work together, the two of them, peeling off Zayn's underwear and then Liam is pulling him open as Zayn pants into his chest. Liam's spreading him open with his fingers, wide and wet, for Niall.

For Niall, who's whimpering quietly to himself, watching the muscles in Zayn's back clench, watching Liam opening him up, stretching him-

"Niall, pass me that box over there?" Liam asks softly, like he's trying not to startle a small, defenseless animal. Niall feels a bit like one, if he's honest with himself. He nods, awkwardly shucking his shorts before he crawls from his bunk, and picks up the box. "Open the lid and come here," Liam instructs, and Niall pops the lid of the box without thinking about how his boxers are too tight and his face is too hot.

Pamela is sitting inside the box, nestled alongside a vast assortment of toys, including the plug he'd seen the other day. The plug looks a bit like a Fred, or maybe a George, Niall thinks uselessly, and he wonders how those names got into his head.

"The green dildo," Liam demands, and Niall dives into the box, wrapping his fingers around a green silicone dildo, handing it to Liam who was waiting impatiently, Zayn still stretched open.

"Thanks, you can go," Zayn says, showing the first indication of living in a while, and Niall, flustered, dives back into his bunk. He watches from the corner of his eye as Liam slowly inserts the dildo and starts fucking Zayn with it, rucking up Zayn's shirt with his other hand and clawing at the skin until the shirt is gone and Zayn's olive skin is marred with red scratch marks.

"Fuck, gonna come," Zayn hisses, and then he does, dildo up his ass, Liam holding him tightly. As Liam gently rolls Zayn over, tosses the dildo aside, he finally kicks off his own briefs. Then, ignoring Zayn completely, he rolls over again to face Niall, hand wrapped around his stiff dick, a cocky smile spreading across his face. 

Niall comes first, grinding against his mattress, making a proper mess of his sheets. Liam watches him ride out the aftershocks before he comes himself, shooting his load all over his own chest. "You should just join us next time," Zayn says, voice muffled by the pillow.

Niall closes his eyes, lies on his dirty sheets, and pretends he didn't hear it.


	6. plus one

They've been home for three days and Niall's getting sick of hearing how he's adopted American speech patterns and phrases. He pretends he's happy to be back, happy to be alone and wrapped up in the blankets of his own bed, but he's not.

He can't define it – everything's stifling, but too open. It's like he's got options, a vast array of them, and he's so used to being told what to do that he doesn't know how to take care of himself – doesn't know what to do with options.

Zayn calls him five days in. "Are you doing alright?" Zayn asks, and Niall doesn't think he's ever been so happy to hear Zayn's voice, that familiar Bradford accent slicing through his phone like a bucket of ice water on a hot day. He's home.

He goes to Zayn's house, and really, he shouldn't be, but he's a bit surprised when Liam opens the door. "What's new?" Niall asks, and like every single time they've talked since that day they jerked off while having insane eye contact sex and never brought it up, they didn't bring it up.

"Nothing," Liam chuckles, and Niall expects Liam to lead them into the living room, but instead, he brings them upstairs and into his bedroom. Zayn's sprawled out on his bed – the radio hums softly in the background, and Zayn's scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

Niall thinks the sheets look soft, so he flops down on the bed too, wiggling next to Zayn seeking the most comfortable spot (he isn't wrong – there isn't an uncomfortable spot on the bed). He's not ready for it. He's not prepared.

Liam comes down over them like clouds rolling in on a sunny day; he blankets them in a searing heat, descending like a divine being from the heavens. He's wearing a tank top and Niall notes, somewhat distressed, that he can see his nipples, hard, dark nubs beneath the white cotton.

"C'mere, Li," Zayn drawls, slow and low, like he's eaten Harry and adopted his vocal chords. "Need you, babe." Liam fits well with Zayn, Niall notices. Niall fits between them a bit like a sheet of paper with extra limbs – his arms are twisted awkwardly and he puts them the only place he can, looped around Liam's neck. 

When Liam kisses Zayn, Niall ends up pressed between the two of them. He's usually claustrophobic, but this is different. This is warm, and soft, and hard at the same time. This is ribs and chests and hands and – and Liam's taking his shirt off, and then Niall's shirt is coming off too. It's different.

When they're naked, when they're all naked, Zayn and Liam kiss again, and they kiss for a long time. Niall's ears are filled with sloppy sounds of tongue, of lips, of teeth – and then Zayn's reaching down, stroking his soft hands up and down Niall's side, and Liam's there, moving Niall's own callused fingertips onto Zayn's hips.

Niall isn't sure who goes for it first, but Zayn ducks down and Niall tilts his face up, and then there are lips on his, soft and tender and gentle in ways that only Zayn can be. Niall eats it up, soaks it in, and revels in the feeling of Zayn's skin under his fingertips, touching, just touching, touching and wondering whether it'd feel different if the tattoos were raised.

Liam slides a few wet fingers between Niall's cheeks, gently rubbing against the hole for a bit before he crooks his index finger and presses past the muscle. "Okay?" Liam asks, and Niall nods into Zayn's shoulder.

"He's okay," Zayn answers for him, reaching down, and then there's a hand on his dick. There's a hand on his dick, and it doesn't belong to him.

He catches on eventually. He gets his hands down Zayn's back, gripping at his ass, feeling it clench in the palms of his hands as he starts rocking back and forth, his cock sliding in the crevice of Zayn's hip, twitching back to bear down on Liam's fingers. "Niall, I want you, fuck, we want you so bad-" Liam's voice is smooth like honey in his ear, and Zayn's fingertips feel like silk on his skin.

"Please," Niall begs.

It doesn't feel like anything at first, just a stretch, a bit more than the fingers, a bit more than the dildo he has at home (it's a normal fleshy tone, and it's not named Pamela and it definitely doesn't have rhinestones).

Then it's everywhere – it's Liam, inside him, outside, around, wrapped around him and pressing him hard up into Zayn, their cocks bumping each other as they anxiously jerked their hips in some sort of unintentional rhythm. Zayn wrenches a hand between them, wrapping his wiry fingers around their dicks, and jerks them off wetly, using precome to ease the way.

It's not perfect. Niall doesn't know what to do with his hands so he just continues to clutch at Zayn's ass. Liam helpfully slicks up his fingers for him, and then Niall is pressing his fingers into Zayn, Zayn who's still kind of loose since clearly he and Liam have been spending their time off having as much sex as possible.

"Does this mean we get to fuck, like, all the time now?" Niall asks, as Liam readjusts him so that Zayn can sit on his dick (and well, that was a thought he never thought he'd have). Zayn is hot and tight and does the heavy lifting; Niall doesn't think he'll ever go back to girls again.

"We've been trying to get you to join us for ages," Liam says, his breath hot and damp at Niall's ear. He finds he doesn't mind. "You're just so daft you-"

"Oh, fuck," Zayn interrupts their conversation, coming on Niall's chest and stomach as he gingerly removes himself from Niall's lap. At the sight of Zayn rolling off him and flopping loose-limbed onto the bed, Niall loses it, coming hard and without a hand on him, catching a bit on Zayn's side, who only giggles and swipes at it before bringing it to his lips.

"I want to suck you off next time," Zayn says. "Suck you off while Liam fucks you-"

"Zayn," Liam gasps, and he pulls Niall off him easily, rolling over and coming hard across Zayn's thighs. 

"Thanks," Zayn sighs, bringing his fingers down to play with the mess Liam left on him.

After they clean up and snuggle back in bed together, naked and tangled, much like that one time in the closet but much more comfortable, Niall can't help but ask.

"Have you really been trying to lure me in for that long?"

"You're so fucking oblivious," Zayn says fondly, and two pairs of lips land on his face.

Niall smiles, and lets them crowd into his space. Because just as much as he likes pushing himself into theirs, he now knows they feel the same, if not stronger, about him too.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. I'm [chloroformdreams](http://chloroformdreams.tumblr.com) on tumblr and [@Munnoaster](http://twitter.com/Munnoaster/) on twitter if you wanna chat about fandom related things or just say hi. :)


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